


A Harbor in the Tempest

by Mazarin221b



Category: My Engineer (TV)
Genre: Accepting Help, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Drama, First Time, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Why Ram has his dreamcatcher tattoo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:01:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29272146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazarin221b/pseuds/Mazarin221b
Summary: It was his second tattoo, his aunt watching the ink needled into the skin behind his ear with a gentle smile.“I don’t know if it will work in the same way, but it may bring you some relief,” she had told him. “Even if the relief is from your own worry.”Ram crooked his head at the mirror to admire the work when it was done, the black, flowing outline of a dreamcatcher caught in the wind forever indelible on his skin, and he felt free.
Relationships: King/Ram (My Engineer)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	A Harbor in the Tempest

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be a short one-shot about WHY Ram has his dreamcatcher tattoo and how his anxiety and panic attacks could impact his relationship with King, but as I wrote it, I was struggling and then realized: it was because I was trying to tell a very long, complex story in too short of a way. Then I was able to talk it over with Maria and she helped me find my way to the heart of this story, as a good English professor is wont to do, and bam. I now have my first multi-chapter fic in this fandom. Thank you, Maria, and thank you to everyone who reads.

Ram shudders awake in the pre-dawn darkness, a gasp still echoing from the walls. His heart is thrumming in his chest, blood rushing in his ears as he tries to shake off the panic that constricts his chest, making it hard to breathe properly.

“Ning,” King says, a warm hand on Ram’s shoulder and oh, this is new, a witness to his weakness, up close and personal. Ram can see the feathery outline of his hair, backlit by the streetlights streaming through the gaps in the curtains. “Are you alright? Can I help?” 

Ram shakes his head. A quick motion and he’s sitting up, head hung between his knees and breathing deeply, _in two three four, hold two three four, out two three four_ , just like he was taught. 

King’s hand burns like a brand against his skin. He hates this, hates being so damn weak in front of the one person he wanted to protect more than anything, someone Ram wants to show strength for, to be a pillar for instead of an anchor. 

But he can’t. Ram gasps out “I’m fine,” before, to his horror and shame, the tears well up and he breaks down, sobbing. 

……………………………………………………………………

The first week into Ram’s official relationship with King had him shuffled back to his dorm, King pouting over Ram’s insistence that they should have their own space for now, and every single one of their friends shit-stirring every single chance they got. Their friend group might have wanted to protect Duen from Bohn, but they’ve apparently decided Ram is a free-for-all for crass jokes, bad innuendo, and straight up bald-faced questions. 

Ram is trying to endure it all the best he can, sometimes trying to tease back, most of the time just ignoring it. King is with him sometimes, too, when they start in, and he laughs and blushes a pretty shade of pink at Ting’s barely-repressed squeals whenever he and Ram so much as look at each other.

“You’ve got him so whipped, P’King,” Ting says, sly, after Ram comes back from the canteen line with King’s favorite drink. “I think you could ask him for just about anything, you know?” She winks and Phu laughs, and Ram closes his eyes and tries to breathe through his nose and not murder his friends. He and King have only kissed twice as it is, not that he hasn’t wanted to do more, but why are his friends so obnoxious?

“Or he could ask me,” Ram hears King say, and when he opens his eyes King is looking at him, intent. 

Ram can feel his blush intensify all the way to the roots of his hair. 

“Oh my God look at him, our big strong Ram, totally hot for -"

“ _Ting!_ ” Ram squawks, finally pushed enough that he has to say something. Ting subsides but hides a laugh behind her hand as Ram grabs his bag and King’s wrist and pulls him to his feet. King’s eyebrows are up to his hairline but he follows without a word until they’re around the corner of the Engineering building, in the shade of a grove of trees.

“Slow down, Ai’Ning,” King says, laughing. He tugs Ram’s hand to get him to stop. “Where are you even taking me? I’ve got class in an hour.”

Ram loosens his hold on King’s wrist but steps close to him, until he can tilt his head, their lips a whisper apart. “Should I kiss you here, or in my room?” Ram asks. The primal part of his brain thrills to see King’s eyes darken as Ram pushes a gentle thumb under that sweet bottom lip, watching in fascination as King’s lips part almost involuntarily at the touch. 

He looks _delicious_.

Ram can’t wait any longer. He captures that lovely mouth with his own, giving King a long, deep, languorous kiss that leaves King barely upright in his arms and Ram breathing heavily and uncomfortably hard in his jeans. 

“Your room…” King says, his eyes slightly unfocussed. “What were you saying again about your room?”

Ram wraps an arm around his waist and tugs King along. The faster they get there, the faster he can get back to kissing, maybe even touching. 

They duck inside the lobby and Ram jabs the elevator buttons with impatience. King just watches him, cheeks aflame every time their eyes meet. 

Ram has never, in his entire life, been so happy not to have a roommate. 

He kicks his door closed behind him and drops his bag, watching carefully as King stands in the middle of the room, his back to Ram. Ram isn’t sure if he’s having second thoughts or is just nervous or what, but when Ram stands behind him and touches his shoulder, King whirls around and is in his arms without hesitation. 

God, Ram has wanted this for weeks, for _months_ now, his arms full of this gorgeous boy who makes his knees weak and his heart flutter. He licks that delicious bottom lip, begs with tongue and tiny, teasing pecks until King opens his mouth, just a little, just enough that Ram can lick inside his mouth, taste the heat and the fire of him. King groans as Ram’s hands slide down his back and settle on his waist, and Ram pauses there, savoring. 

“Want to touch you,” King whispers against Ram’s lips. “Can I?” 

Ram nods and goes back to kissing King even as he tries to frantically unbutton his shirt. His tie gets in the way and he finally has to pull back with a curse. King chuckles but reaches out, gently loosens the tie from Ram’s undone collar and slides it off. He looks at the tie in his hand then meets Ram’s eyes.

“Wanted to do that for a while, too,” he says, then slips his hands under the open front of Ram’s shirt. His touch is electric, fingers gliding over Ram’s chest as King carefully pushes the fabric from his shoulders and lets it pool on the floor. 

“Gorgeous,” King says, voice low, and leans forward to press his open mouth to the tattoo over Ram’s right pec. Ram gasps, his hand flying up to cradle King’s dark head against his skin. King licks at his skin for only a brief moment before pulling away to back toward the bed, bringing Ram along by both hands. 

King falls backward onto the mattress, Ram following to land half on top of him. He could eat this boy alive, he really could, and he sneaks his fingers under the hem of King’s black tshirt to tease at his bellybutton, bare over the waistband of his jeans. Ram relishes King’s gasp, wants to do anything and everything he can to pull more of those sounds from his gorgeous boyfriend, his dark hair fanned out across Ram’s pillow and the sun dappled across his skin.

“Let me take this off?” Ram asks, and tugs on the hem of the shirt. 

“Yeah.” King leans up and lets the blue engineering shirt slide from his shoulders before he swiftly pulls the black tshirt up and over his head. Ram sucks in a breath as King lies back, hair askew, cheeks pink, and chest heaving. 

“So beautiful,” Ram says, then presses a kiss right to the middle of King’s sternum, right over his heart. He is beautiful, slender and soft, his skin a warm golden brown. Ram tastes one dark nipple, the skin hardening under the touch of his tongue. He was right, King is delicious, more so than he ever expected. He sucks in a breath, shoves both hands behind King’s back and pulls King more firmly against his questing mouth. 

King gasps, then arches. Then he _moans_ , and the sound shivers its way down Ram’s back. God, what if they just went for it now? What if he just pulled King’s pants down and --

“Ram, oh god, Ram, stop, stop, Cool Boy -- fuck, you gotta stop--” King’s hands push at Ram’s shoulders and Ram finally gets the message and pulls back, bewildered. 

“I’m...sorry?” Ram says. “Did I hurt you?”

King shakes his head and laughs, before he sits up a little and cups Ram’s cheeks, his fingers brushing over Ram’s skin. “Oh god no. Noooooo, not at all, I’ve just got class, Ning, I’ve got class and I really gotta go, there’s a study guide being handed out today. Okay?” Ram swallows and watches King’s kiss-swollen mouth, then leans forward and nips at it again, trying to draw King back into a kiss. Who cares about class when he’s got a half-naked King in his arms, on his bed? Not Ram.

But the top student in their discipline does, and King indulges him for a minute, humming into Ram’s mouth before he finally pulls away and slides out from under Ram’s body with a disappointed groan. He stands, then slowly reaches out to drag his fingers along Ram’s shoulders before threading his hands in Ram’s hair.

“God, this is so hard,” he whines, and Ram can’t help it, he cracks a smile. “Ai’Ning! I’m serious, I just want - argh!” King scrubs his hands through his hair. “Can we continue this tonight? At my condo? You could stay over, if you want.” King says that last with a self-conscious little smile.

Ram has a panicked second of thinking about the night, of sleeping in King’s bed, in his condo. He’d done it before, but he’s well, well overdue for another shocking night of waking in a panic, sweating and shaking. He’s terrified for King to witness it, honestly, and it would be even worse than breaking down and crying in front of him over his dad. But he must pause too long because King starts backing away.

“That’s okay! I mean, I know this is new -” King says, and pulls on his shirt with hurried, jerky motions. There is no way he’s going to let King out of his room with that kind of misapprehension, so he grasps King by both wrists. King immediately goes still, eyes wide. 

Ram carefully tips his chin up and kisses him softly, a gentle promise sealed over King’s pretty mouth. “I will see you at seven?” Ram whispers.

King blinks, then smiles. “Bring dinner with you,” he says, and is gone. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

The clock creeps so slowly toward seven Ram wants to scream, punch something, do anything to break the tension. He’d looked at his phone so often that finally Phu slapped his hand down and told him that he was being annoying, and Ram had glowered at him in mock anger until Phu finally rolled his eyes and punched him in the shoulder. 

_“Look, you’re not going to get laid any faster if you keep looking at your phone,” Phu had whispered to him at the back of class. “And you’re going to fail Macro and embarrass the shit out of P’King if you don’t stop thinking with your dick.”_

Ram had quickly sat up after that, dutifully taking notes. Phu was right; King deserved a boyfriend at least as dedicated, if not as smart as he was, so he did his best to pay close attention to the rest of class. But as soon as the teacher had left, Ram waved a quick goodbye to Phu and ran home to shower and change, before going to their favorite restaurant and picking up some food. 

His knock on King’s door at ten minutes till seven is probably a bit more energetic and desperate-sounding than it should have been, honestly. 

The door swings open and King is there, bright eyed and smiling. “Oh good, you’re a little early, do you want - “

Ram cuts him off by taking two steps into the apartment, drops the bags on the plant rack by the door and pulls King into a kiss that leaves them both weak-kneed and breathless. King shivers in his arms as he leans back slightly. 

“That’s a hell of a welcome,” he says, then maneuvers Ram further inside, pausing to close the door before he drags Ram toward the sofa to shove him down on it and climb over Ram’s lap. 

He’s so tall this way, his slender waist fitting perfectly in Ram’s hands, and as Ram pulls up King’s shirt so he can get his hands under it, he wonders just how far King wants to go tonight. He’s not sure they’re quite ready for some of the more ...involved activities he’s seen on the internet, but his body has a pretty clear idea of what it wants. 

“Want to come with you,” Ram says, his lips against the smooth skin of King’s throat. “Wanted it so long. _Please_ , P’King,” and he’s not proud of how he sounds, pent up and desperate. He’s spared so few words for this lovely boy that every single one feels like it carries so much weight, so much significance that his hands shake a little where they’re resting over King’s hips. But King just nods and reaches down to unbutton and unzip his jeans.

Ram feels the moment they come loose, his fingers suddenly able slide between King’s skin and the denim of the waistband. He carefully traces the dimples of King’s lower back as King slowly takes Ram apart with the rhythmic rocking of his body and the heat of his mouth until he breaks away and rests his forehead against Ram’s. 

“What about yours?” King whispers. “Maybe we could, you know.” King stops and looks down, blushing. Ram does know, so he encourages King to stand, carefully drawing his jeans and pants down his long, gorgeous legs before helping him step out of them. Ram then pulls his own jeans and boxers down his thighs. He’s trying not to be self conscious in front of King, but King is so _perfect_ , long and lithe and toned, where Ram is compact and muscular. King’s cock is pretty too, a plump pink head peeking out from his foreskin, and Ram carefully reaches out to touch it with his fingertips. King jumps, hissing through his teeth, before he climbs back onto Ram’s lap, pushing Ram back into the cushions.

The friction between them is astonishing, as is the heat. When Ram thought about touching King like this, the temperature of their bodies pressed skin to skin was something he’d not imagined. Nor could he imagine the sound of King’s harsh breaths in his ear, or the way their cocks feel trapped between them, the friction of their sweaty grinding winding Ram up much, much too fast. 

“P’King,” he groans, his hands finding King’s ass and holding on. He buries his face in King’s neck as they continue to rock against each other. “I’m...I’m so close already, you feel so good. So good.” Ram wants to hold on, wants to make it last. “Are you close? What can I do?”

King gasps in his ear. “Keep going, please,” he says, and presses against him just that much harder. Ram’s orgasm happens so quickly it feels like it’s almost ripped out of his body, crashing over him without warning. He chokes on his own breath, his arms wrapped around King’s back and his come a warm flood between them. 

King, for his part, doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t stop rutting against Ram’s body through it, Ram’s come making the slide just that much easier. He locks his hands behind Ram’s neck and if anything moves faster, until he comes with a groan and a sigh, his lips against Ram’s hair. 

“Holy shit, Ai’Ning,” he says, with a shaky laugh. “I was not expecting that before dinner.” 

Ram cracks a smile and kisses King’s chin. They’re soaked with sweat and covered in come, and Ram is hit with the knowledge that King, this beautiful, chatty, viciously intelligent man, is going to ruin him for anyone else, ever, for the rest of his life.

He welcomes every moment of it. 

But for now, they should clean up. King is still on his lap, so Ram simply hooks his hands under King’s thighs and stands up from the sofa. His weight is slight; he’s all arms and legs, and as Ram starts toward the bathroom, King laughs and jokingly clings to him, as if Ram would ever, ever let him fall.

……………………………………………………...

Later, clean and dry and dressed, they’re cuddled up on the sofa, feeding each other bits of shrimp and fried chicken and sliced apples and watching possibly the worst horror movie Ram has ever seen in his life. Which is fine with him, because that means he can spend his time watching King’s animated face as he giggles during jump scares, or cringes watching someone being stalked. He’s so alive, Ram thinks, so sweet and carefree and open, and little by little he’s carved himself right into Ram’s heart, to the point he doesn’t think he’d feel whole again without him. 

“You’re not watching!” King complains, leaning back to kiss Ram’s cheek. He’s tucked up between Ram’s legs, his back to Ram’s chest, and the warm weight of him is so comfortable Ram is starting to feel a bit sleepy.

“I am, see, I know she just lost her best friend and now he’s gonna pop out of the bathroom and kill her next.” 

“Hey! No spoilers!” 

Ram rolls his eyes and brings King back against his chest, one hand softly carding through King’s hair as he tries to keep his eyes open. “You’ve seen this one before.”

King huffs. “Not for years. Shut up now, I’m watching.” He pulls Ram’s hand from his hair, intertwines their fingers, and lifts the back of Ram’s hand to his lips. “So glad you’re here,” he says softly, and Ram’s heart skips a beat in response.

…………………………………………………………………………..

When Ram wakes as dawn is staining the sky, the screen of the laptop is dark, the light in the kitchen is still on, and King is softly snoring, lying against his chest. 

Ram lifts his fingers to touch his dreamcatcher tattoo, and feels like he’s gotten away with something.


End file.
